


zodiac counterpart [[DISCONTINUED]]

by unserene



Series: the answer is already there (i'm happy) [2]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drug Use, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, In later chapters - Freeform, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Smoking, Smut, Unrequited Love, Updated tags:, also touching on religious topics and abusive parents, author isnt sorry but authors friend is :), chapter 4 is when shit gets real, mention of prostitution in later chapters, rapline platonic poly so Good, shy namjoon (aka irl namjoon), stereotypical college frat parties, vomit ment in ch4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:32:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4223556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unserene/pseuds/unserene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Namjoon was always against smoking, but Kim Seokjin was like a pack of cigarettes he just couldn't stop smoking. A pink, cotton-candy flavored cigarette, standing in the middle of the quad as if he were waiting to be picked up by the local drug addict.<br/>Maybe, he thinks, some habits really are too hard to break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What?

**Author's Note:**

> this is the counterpart to oranges and art students :)

Namjoon had known he was gay by the time he entered his second year of middle school. He noticed that girls were beautiful, yes, girls were always beautiful and deserved respect and love. But he never thought about girls at truth-or-dare matches at his friends houses, while his 12 year old friends got high off of the sugar from their soda cans and talked about who the cutest girl in their classes were.

He had always nodded along, saying yes, she is very cute, she’s very kind and I admire her for that. His friends would roll his eyes when he said he had no crushes on any girl, just taking it for being too busy with studying to think about girls at all.

When Jungkook came into his life in the middle of his second year of middle school, he thought he had made a friend for life. They were great friends, Jungkook reading comics on the floor next to Namjoon while Namjoon played Sonic on his Dreamcast.

He would always curse whenever he died, and by the fifth time the screen displayed Sonic’s life count going down, Jungkook would take the controller from him.

 _You’re really terrible at this game, you know._ Jungkook would snort, finishing the level for him. Namjoon would scoff and pick the discarded comic book off of the floor. This was a casual day in middle school for Kim Namjoon.

He remembers a chilly autumn evening, break was around the corner. Jungkook was curled up on Namjoon’s blanket. Namjoon had let out a pissed sigh through his nose as the level restarted. Sonic began to run again, and as Namjoon began to press the ‘jump’ button, he ran off of the ledge again.

 _Fuck!_ He had yelled, dropping the controller. _Again, this always happens at this point!_

 _Dude, it’s like, the first level._ Jungkook had giggled, setting the manga on the floor next to him.

_Fuck you, Jungkook. Sonic Adventure 2 is a serious game for serious gamers, such as myself._

Jungkook had scoffed at him, both of them silenced as Namjoon had begun the level again.

Namjoon had set the controller down again. _I’m really not made for gaming._

 _You’re not made for running miles, either._ Jungkook had scoffed at him when he had made a weird face. _Yeah, I saw you trip in gym this morning, you’re not sly._

His eyebrows had narrowed and Namjoon felt irritation prick at his fingertips. _Yah, do you want to die, Jeon Jungkook?_

Jungkook stuck his tongue out at him. He remembered feeling like he could never be truly angry with the younger and ended up ruffling his hair. Remembered smiling.

 _Jungkook, we’re going to be friends forever._ Jungkook had smiled up at Namjoon, prominent front teeth shining.

 _...Promise?_ He squeaked, a pinky going between their chests.

Namjoon had looked at his finger for a while before locking his promise in. _Yeah, I promise. No matter what happens._

But when he enters high school, Namjoon begins to feel nervous around Jungkook. His stomach ties itself in knots when he’s around Jungkook, alone in his room.

He soon found out this feeling was love. Namjoon was in love with Jungkook.

He was in love with the gentle motions that Jungkook goes through to take the Dreamcast controller out of his hands to finish the level for him. In love with the way his fingers brush over his when he grabs hold of Namjoon’s chopsticks to guide food into his mouth. In love with his snorts that wrestle their way out of his mouth every time he sees something funny. In love with the way Jungkook looks at him, and only him, to help him out.

Namjoon is hopelessly in love with Jeon Jungkook for all of high school. He knows it’s impossible, _feels_ like it's impossible for Jungkook and himself to end up okay. Society, their peers, the fact that Jungkook would never like him back in the first place.

Until the first day of his third year, his final year of high school, when Jungkook became a first year.

Namjoon’s fingers scrambled for purchase on the tree trunk, wobbling as Jungkook laughed at him for his lack of balance. Namjoon had given him a dirty look. _Why did we climb this tree again?_  

 _Because you said you wanted to climb a tree before you graduated._ Jungkook had shrugged. _Not my fault you were a gutsy first year!_

When Namjoon looks back on it, he wasn’t actually a gutsy first year. He had only wanted to impress Jungkook in the only way he knew how.

As Namjoon was settled in the tree, Jungkook had asked what college he was going to. _KNUA._ Namjoon had answered immediately, and more questions flooded in from the curious first year.

Namjoon had begun to worry when Jungkook had started looking more sullen, but he kept talking. _So Yoongi bumped into this first year. He apologized, because Yoongi is nice, but then he started talking shit to Yoongi’s face. And we all know Yoongi, hes nice, but he won’t take that shit. He punched that guy right the fuck in the nose._

Namjoon recalled seeing a squirrel scramble down the trunk of the tree, scaring the shit out of him and almost knocking him out of the tree.

He had regained his balance and moved on. _..So anyway, the guy was barreling down the street, Yoongi almost tripped on his own feet chasing after the guy and-_

 _Namjoon_. Jungkook had abruptly blurted.

_Uh, yeah, Jungkook?_

Worry had gnawed on Namjoon’s ribs as he saw that Jungkook wouldn’t meet his gaze anymore.

_Namjoon, I have to tell you something._

Namjoon had pulled at the collar of his school uniform. _Okay, spit it out, Jungkookie, what’s wrong?_

_I.. came to you first with this because.. I know you’re really open and stuff and you wouldn’t kick me out of my own house or anything, and you’re my best friend._

His stomach began to swirl as his heartstrings were tugged. He had moved closer to Jungkook then, putting a supporting hand on the younger’s knee and rubbing it. _You can tell me._

Jungkook had bit his lip. Namjoon’s heart swelled. He tried to force it back down. _Tell mee._

_Namjoon, I’m gay._

Hope rushed down his throat like a stream, fear and dread chasing it. Namjoon couldn’t speak. His throat closed up, up, up, and he had felt like he was going to fall out of the tree any second. Hope that Jungkook liked him back, that Jungkook wanted him too made him feel disgusted at himself for thinking that, doing that to Jungkook.

He had needed to get away from Jungkook _now_. He would hurt him, taint him. Namjoon vaguely recalls scraping his ankle on a sharp branch as he struggled down the tree.

 _Namjoon_! Namjoon had heard Jungkook’s voice break as he called after him. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Protect Jungkook.

He remembered the wind picking up speed as Jungkook screamed for him. _Namjoon, wait, I’m sorry,_ Namjoon remembers Jungkook trying to come after him, trying to reach for his arm. He had to get away from Jungkook. Protect Jungkook from Namjoon.

 _I didn’t ask to be made like this, it just happened, please come back, I’m sorry!_ Jungkook’s words had clawed their way down Namjoon’s back, Namjoon had wanted to go back, gather him in his arms and tell him it was okay, it’s always been okay. Protect Jungkook from himself.

But Namjoon hadn’t gone back for him. He had to make sure Jungkook would stay away from Namjoon, for his own safety. _Don’t fucking speak to me right now, don’t even fucking speak to me._ He remembered snarling out to the sniveling boy.

Namjoon felt his cold heart shrivel and grow weaker, weaker as he heard the grass stop crunching behind him. Jungkook deserved better than him. Namjoon would be busy with his studies and would have no time for a relationship with him, if Jungkook had even liked Namjoon. He had to protect him.

He thought he had left Jungkook behind, thought Jungkook had just gone home, until he heard a heart wrenching sob from behind him.

_Namjoon!_

He could hear Jungkook screaming his throat raw, trying to get him to come back and Namjoon had pushed him away. Left Jungkook with his frigid, bitter heart.

He had never been good at protecting.

 

Namjoon pulled himself out of his memories, like how Yoongi was currently pulling him into the first café he had ever been to on a college campus.

Yoongi shoved him into a seat. “Sit.” He commanded, waiting until Namjoon reluctantly sat down before sauntering up to the cashier and ordering their drinks.

Pulling a hand down over his face, Namjoon pushed Jungkook and high school out of his thoughts. It was his first day at his university! Time to be excited! Try new things! Like the disgusting drink Yoongi was probably going to order him because he had zoned out while listening to Yoongi’s stories.

To his surprise, Yoongi walked back with a bagel and a cappuccino. “Why the fuck do you have that look on your face?” His pink haired friend murmured out through sips of his creamy drink.

Namjoon sighed, tugging his hood over his head and gazing out of the window. “It’s nothing.”

He could practically feel Yoongi rolling his eyes.”Don’t you pull that emo kid shit on me, Namjoon. We aren’t in middle school anymore.”

His eyes closed. “I wish I was.”

Yoongi exhaled. “Eat your damn bagel, you gigantic lanky baby.”

Namjoon’s expression crinkled into a grimace as he put the bagel on his face. “Like this?”

“No. Open your mouth.” Yoongi grabbed the bagel off of his face as he opened his mouth. Yoongi tears a bit off of the bagel and places the scrap in his mouth. “Okay, chew.”

Namjoon chewed, groaning and throwing his head back. “I don’t wanna live this life.”

“Swallow.”

He swallowed.

Yoongi beamed. “Good.”

Namjoon groaned again. “Why do I have to live this life?”

“Dude, it’s your first day of college. Calm the fuck down. Fuck someone, maybe?”

“I’m only 19.”

“Still.”

Namjoon groans a third time.

 

He’s in his second trimester of college when he sees the most beautiful boy to ever walk the face of this cruel, terrible earth amble into his astrophysics class.

Namjoon feels awe overtake his body. How could someone be this beautiful? Fear replaced awe as the pretty boy catches his gaze.

Namjoon blinked and looked away. Namjoon also thought he might faint.

The syllabus was handed to him, his idle mind not taking in any of the information given to him as he kept stealing glances at the boy. He choked on his spit when he caught him looking again.

The professor soon calls a short end to the class as soon as he had completely gone over the syllabus, which in turn, had completely gone over Namjoon’s head. Namjoon shoves the paper into his bag and gathers his things. When he closes his bag, he notices a pair of slightly tattered converse facing him. He follows the long expanse of leg up until he meets full, plush lips and sparkling eyes.

“I may be mistaken, but,” The boy starts softly, tightening his grip on the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “I saw you staring at me when I walked in. I don’t really have any friends here yet, so would you like to have lunch with me?”

Namjoon is bewildered, to say the least. But he can’t say no to that charming smile, that pleasant voice, so he nods instead. The boy’s smile widens as he tugs on the material of Namjoon’s sweater lightly, guiding him out of the classroom.

Soon, he finds himself being seated in the same café he and Yoongi had visited on the first day of college. The pretty boy is right in front of him, setting his bag down next to Namjoon’s and smiling sweetly at him.

“Before we get drinks and stuff, I want to introduce myself.” The beautiful man starts, turning his gaze up to meet Namjoon’s puzzled one. He giggles, and Namjoon feels his stomach twirl. “I’m sorry, this is really weird, huh?”

Namjoon closes his mouth, which he didn’t know was slightly agape. He shakes his head.

“..I’m Kim Seokjin. I just came to this college and nobody really knows me so I just lept at the chance when I saw you staring at me.”

Namjoon is frozen. God, he’s so fucking whipped.

But Seokjin’s brows are furrowing and Namjoon knows exactly what question is on the tip of his tongue. “What’s your name?”

Namjoon can feel his palms sweating. His heart is racing in his ears and the background noise of the café becomes static. He feels the words tumble out of his mouth before he can even process what they sound like.

“I’m Kim Namjoon I’m 19 and I love my mom.” He spits out mindlessly. Seokjin stares at him, bordering between polite and impolite.

“..Do you speak Korean?” He asks slowly, pronouncing every syllable clearly.

“What?” Namjoon almost chokes. What did he do to make Seokjin ask this?

“You just introduced yourself in English.”

“No.. I.. I speak Korean. I didn’t think I had introduced myself like that, sorry.” Namjoon sputters, voice dying out near the end of his sentence. Seokjin just smiles softly, and Namjoon feels his nerves calm down a bit.

“It’s fine.” Seokjin said, taking his wallet out of his pocket. “What do you want to eat?”

Namjoon had had been looking anywhere but Seokjin after terribly introducing himself. “I don’t know..” He murmured,  shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe a bagel.”  His mind flits back to a smooth voice and pink hair and he yearns for Yoongi’s comforting presence in this awkward conversation.

He feels Seokjin watching him for a few seconds more, before something seems to click in his mind. “Okay.”

Namjoon feels dread sinking in as he goes to get up and order, but Seokjin shushes him back into his seat. “I’ll order, it’s fine.” Seokjin beams. He watches, looking like a lost puppy as he sees Seokjin pay for his bagel and his drink.


	2. [jin] [1:19 AM] ok cool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know what that chapter title is

A week had passed between Seokjin and Namjoon’s escapade at the café. Namjoon had left after he and Seokjin had talked for a bit. Well, more like Seokjin had talked and Namjoon had sipped at his drink while glancing up at Seokjin a few times. He felt bad about it, just letting Seokjin carry the conversation on basically by himself until Namjoon had warmed up a bit, but those worrying thoughts soon dissipated when his phone buzzed on his nightstand.

Lifting his face from his pillow, Namjoon cracked an eye open and grabbed for his phone. “Shit.” He breathed, hearing his phone clatter onto the floor. _If I have to pay to get my fucking screen fixed again, I’m never buying another iPhone._

His fingers scrabbled at the floor until he felt the cool backing of his case against his fingertips. Squeezing his eyes shut, Namjoon lifted his phone from the floor until he was face to face with it and opened his eyes slowly. A sigh of relief left him as he saw there were no cracks or scratches on the screen. Happily, he entered his passcode and read the message Seokjin sent him.

**Are you up for going downtown today with Hoseok and Yoongi?**

 

Namjoon scratched at his nose before typing out a reply.

 

**yea sure. did you already text hoseok and yoongi?**

**Yes, I did. They’re already downtown. I know you’ve just woken up, but hurry up. I’ll be waiting for you.**

 

His eyes widened and a light blush dusted across his cheeks as he read Seokjin’s reply. _It’s just Seokjin, he’s like a mom. He’s just worried that you won’t be able to put your shoes on correctly or something._

Obeying Seokjin’s orders to hurry up, Namjoon lept out of bed, shimmying on the pants he wore yesterday (and the day before that) and throwing on one of his Odd Future hoodies. The hoodie had a few holes in it, but he loved it so much that he couldn’t bear to throw it away. Maybe he would buy a new sweater today.

He had one sock on and the other half way on, his shoes hanging from his hand as the other tried to shove his sock onto his foot, when the doorbell rang.

Namjoon hobbled his way to the door, twisting the knob and opening it to see Seokjin. Seokjin smiled down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Uh..” Namjoon finished pulling his sock up and corrected his posture. “Putting my shoes on.”

A giggle bubbled out of Seokjin’s mouth. “And you didn’t fall over while putting them on?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Namjoon grabbed his keys from the top of the frame of the door. “Are we leaving?”

“Yes. But I’m driving.” When Namjoon opened his mouth to complain, Seokjin shushed him. “You can’t even park in a parking space correctly.”

“How do you know that?” Namjoon narrowed his eyes. How did he know that?

Seokjin pulled Namjoon out of his dorm door, closing the door behind him and pushing him to walk. “I assumed your car was the one that was sticking out of it’s parking spot and had Odd Future stickers on the back.”

Namjoon grumbled while he followed Seokjin out to his car, grumbling _I can so parallel park_ and that _nobody can judge me on parking anywhere South Korea sucks with parking spots._ Seokjin just laughed and pat Namjoon’s back.

“Maybe I can give you private lessons.” Seokjin mused while unlocking the car, opening the door and waiting for Namjoon to get in. “I’m really good at it, you know.”

He choked on his spit as he imagined Seokjin leaning across the midsection of the car- “What..?”

“At driving!” Seokjin cheered, turning the car on and pulling out of the parking space. “What were you thinking? Something bad?”

Namjoon scoffed, feeling the tips of his ears burn as he slid his shoes on. “No.”

“Sure you weren’t. I know I’m attractive, Namjoon, but keep it in your pants.”

“Who said I wasn’t?!” He exclaimed.

“Your blush!” Seokjin said, smiling serenely, contrasting to the situation that was currently developing between the two. “Oh, look, there they are.”

Looking out of the window, Namjoon spotted Hoseok and Yoongi. Hoseok was currently jumping up and down, waving his hand at their car and reminding Namjoon of a hyper puppy, about to piss himself with excitement. Yoongi stood next to him, hands shoved into his pockets as he gave a small smile and a nod to Namjoon.

Seokjin pulled up into a parking spot. Hoseok ran over, almost ripping Namjoon’s arm off before he had even unbuckled his seatbelt.

“There was this lady with a stand full of churros!” He chattered excitedly. “Churros! Namjoon! Churros!”

Namjoon rubbed his eye. “Churros for breakfast?”

Hoseok smirked. “You know it.”

Five minutes later, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok were squished onto a small park bench, happily chewing away at their churros. Hoseok sighed happily, turning three heads towards him.

“I want to go shopping.” He mumbled.

Yoongi hopped up from the bench, causing Seokjin and Hoseok to fall onto each other, and dusted crumbs from his thighs. “Let’s go.”

Namjoon watched Seokjin pout and rub at his head. “I didn’t even get to finish yet!”

“Dude, you had like, half of mine.”

“You gave it to me.” Seokjin shrugged.

“Stop bullying Namjoon and stealing his food. Get up and let’s go.” The shortest pulled them from the bench, groaning and all, and began to tug them toward the various clothes stores that littered the streets of Seoul.

Hoseok grabbed onto Yoongi’s arm. “Can we go to Itaewon?”

Namjoon stifled a laugh behind his hand. “Why? Do you want to go to Hooker Hill?”

“Yah, Kim Namjoon, I should hit you for suggesting that.” The oldest scolded, bringing a hand up behind Namjoon’s head.

Namjoon flinched. “Sorry.”

Seokjin opened his mouth to say something else, until his eyes landed upon a hat store. “Let’s go here!”

A hand wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist as he was dragged helplessly into the store, Yoongi and Hoseok lingering behind them. “We’ll stay out here.” Yoongi called after them.

Seokjin stopped at the back of the store. He slapped a farmer’s hat on his head. “What about this?” He sighed when all Namjoon would do was shrug. “I need your opinion!”

Namjoon played with the collar of his sweater. “I don’t know what to say. Fashion isn’t exactly my thing.”

“Well, give me your opinion anyway.” He said, placing a sunhat on his head instead. “What about this hat?”

“It’s.. floppy?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s a sunhat.”

“Just try another on.”

The process went on for a few minutes, until Seokjin placed a beanie on his head. He smoothed down the sides of the beanie, tugging it until it sat on his head just right. His dark hair framed his tan, pretty face. “What do you think?”

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Wait, don’t put another hat on.” He carefully took the beanie off of Seokjin’s dark head of hair, his eyes following his movements confusedly. Namjoon picked a dark red beanie from the pile of hats and placed it on Seokjin’s head, sliding it on and styling it.

“Yes. This is a good development.” Namjoon nods, fixing some strands of Seokjin’s hair. He grabbed a pair of fake glasses from the table next to him. Seokjin took the glasses from Namjoon’s hands and slid them on. “Oh, _yes_. This is good. Fantastic, even.”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “You think so? Don’t they have this in pink?”

“Don’t you have a pink beanie already?”

“..Yeah.”

Namjoon frowned. “I think you should wear this out.”

“What?”

“You look good. Wear it out.”

Seokjin smiled at Namjoon, starting to take off the glasses. “I can’t walk out without paying for it, and I have no money.”

Namjoon felt his stomach drop. _But he looks so good!_ “I’ll pay for it!”

The woman at the cash register smiled, having heard their whole conversation. “That will be 16000 won.”

Namjoon fished his wallet out of his pocket while he ventured over to the register, a hesitant Seokjin pulling at his hoodie. He paid for Seokjin’s hat and glasses, dragging a protesting Seokjin out of the small store.

Hoseok whistled. “Damn, Seokjin, you look great.”

“Thanks. Namjoon bought it for me, that bastard.”

“Oh!” Yoongi’s eyes lit up, smiling mischievously. “You’re finally dating?”

Namjoon felt himself choke again. “No!” He yelled, embarrassment rising in his throat.

“Not yet.” Seokjin mumbled distractedly. Namjoon’s head snaps to look at Seokjin, who began to nonchalantly pick at his nails. Namjoon’s cheeks went cherry red as Yoongi and Hoseok start cracking up.

The sushi restaurant had a nice, quiet atmosphere, the dim lighting making the fish tanks in various corners of the room seem to glow. At least, it would be quiet, if Hoseok and Yoongi weren’t chattering at the speed of light.

“Isn’t it such a nice clothing line?” Yoongi gushed, shoving his phone in Hoseok’s face.

“Whoa! Yeah, damn, where did you find it?”

“I was looking for some new clothes. This shirt is like, 67000 won.”

“That’s so expensive!” Hoseok’s jaw drops. “I want it.”

Namjoon dragged his gaze from Yoongi and Hoseok’s conversation to his own food. He scooped a mouthful of rice into his mouth, resting his cheek in his hand and gazing up at the person seated across from him.

Seokjin hadn’t looked up in a couple of minutes, deeply invested in his food. Namjoon admired Seokjin’s cute mouth, and how he fits all of that fucking food into his tiny ass mouth. He found it a bit funny, how Seokjin was charming and motherly and polite, yet could easily beat any grown man at a hot dog eating contest. He was so nice and pretty and he’s _perfect_ and _why did he choose him as a friend and not someone else he’s so beautiful and kind what the fuck._

Those lovely eyes glance up at Namjoon’s. “What are you looking at?”

Namjoon swallowed nervously, eyes training in on a grain of rice on the corner of Seokjin’s mouth. “Nothing.”

One of Seokjin’s eyebrows raises. “Then why are you looking at me? Is there something on my face?”

“Yeah.” Namjoon murmured. He reached his hand over and brushed the grain off with his thumb. His hand lingered on Seokjin’s cheek as their eyes met.

Namjoon blinked as Seokjin seemed to scrutinize every little detail of his face, reality catching up with him as he quickly drew away his hand and immediately looked down. Yoongi and Hoseok’s conversation had stopped, both boys looking at them in confusion.

The waitress comes to their table, dropping off a small book with the bill in it. “I’ll pay.” Yoongi offers, fishing out a couple thousand won and placing it inside of the book before anyone could object. “None of you have any money anyway.”

Hoseok starts his conversation back up with Yoongi as soon as the waitress bows and walks away, like nothing had even happened.

Namjoon risks a glance up, almost screaming when he was met with Seokjin’s curious gaze resting on his face. Seokjin cracked a small smile. “I’d like to do this again sometime.”

Namjoon thumbs the hole in the arm of his hoodie. _I was supposed to buy a new one today,_ he thinks absentmindedly as he looks at Seokjin’s hat and glasses. “I don’t know if Hoseok or Yoongi have time off from school and work next week.”

Seokjin placed his chopsticks on the side of his recently cleaned plate. “I meant just you and I.”

His eyes shot to Seokjin’s smiling ones for a second, then smiled himself. “Sure.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading!! pls leave kudos or maybe a comment :8)  
> i am going to be gone for the next 2 weeks and have no idea if i will be writing during that time so i'll see you all in 2 weeks!


	3. Whipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He’s too innocent, he’s too good for me and my nasty dick. I can’t believe this. What would my mother say?_ Namjoon actually thought on what his mother would think, and came across the conclusion that she wouldn’t actually give half a shit.

Math sucked. Math sucked so hard, in fact, Namjoon would kill it if it were a person. Math was like that one kid who hung around your friend group at lunch just for the sole purpose of annoying you.

Namjoon’s chin slipped from his hand, sending his forehead straight into the hard mahogany of his desk. “Ah, shit!” He spat, hopping up from his desk and pressing a cool hand to his forehead. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, I hate you, I hate math, I hate my damn forehead..” He trailed off, sniffling and rubbing his forehead again before taking his seat back at his desk. _Fuck math._

 _What the fuck? What the hell is Calc worth anyways?_ He thought, scratching out more numbers. None of it made sense to him, and he growled as he crumpled up another sheet of paper. The simmering fingers of frustration began to tickle at the back of his neck, making Namjoon growl in annoyance at the mess of a problem in his textbook.

Math was one of his weaknesses; Namjoon excelled in every other subject besides math. _And Phys Ed,_ Namjoon thought, wincing at the memories of too many basketballs hitting him in the head. Refocusing on the problem at hand, Namjoon shoved a hand into his brown locks as the bitter taste of anger seeped into his lower stomach, leaving his abdomen burning.

He felt something twitch in his pants. Namjoon narrowed his eyebrows, then froze. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, Namjoon Jr.”

Namjoon Jr  wasn’t fucking around, fully awake in the form of an angry boner. “Not right now!” He yelled at the bulge in his jeans, stomping his feet furiously as if doing that would make it go away.

After a few minutes of howling at Namjoon Jr.’s existence, Namjoon slouched in his chair, admitting defeat. _I guess a cold shower could do me good._ He rose from the chair, stumbling towards the bathroom as he struggled out of his shirt.

Namjoon yanked his pants and boxers down, sighing as his dick was released from its clothed prison. _I’m so glad Donghae isn’t home to hear me jerk off in the shower again._ The cold water shot out of the showerhead and Namjoon shivered as he stepped under the freezing water.

He waited and waited, but Namjoon Jr didn’t budge. Namjoon groaned, turning the shower heat up to a normal temperature and wrapped a hand around his dick. _Fuck it,_ He thought, slowly moving his hand around his shaft, increasing pressure as he neared the head.

Namjoon bit his lip as he imagined someone else getting him off, maybe that cute kid from the supermarket. Yoongi flickered across his mind’s eye, reminding Namjoon of his last birthday and Yoongi’s deft hands, calloused from years of being on the basketball courts, wrapped around his cock. He could feel Yoongi’s other hand, with the small tattoo of a snake winding around his thumb and index finger, sliding from his stomach to his ass, squeezing the firm globe of his asscheek and pushing him into the wall.

Back hitting the slippery tiles of the shower wall, Namjoon moaned into his hand, trying to resurrect memories of his eighteenth birthday to help him get off. Imaginary Yoongi slowly morphed into someone else Namjoon couldn’t recognize as he quickened the pace of his hand. He imagines their hands slowly coming down to his crotch, imagining the muffled thud of their knees as they hit the shower floor. Namjoon willed his imagination on, almost feeling plush lips against the head of his dick, and a connection was finally made to the face of the person he was imagining.

Namjoon’s thighs clenched as he imagined Seokjin gazing up at him with those mockingly innocent eyes, taking his cock into his mouth and smiling up at him. Namjoon choked. _No! Not Seokjin! Not that innocent angel, he’s Seokjin, brain why is this happening--_

Sperm coated his hand and dripped onto the bottom of the tub as Namjoon cried out upon his release. He expected to feel destressed after that jerk off session, but as he caught his breath, he couldn’t help but feel dirty.

The pitter-patter of the water hitting the tub slowly brought Namjoon back to reality, and he shuts off the water. Toweling himself off, he dragged himself back into his room and slid his underwear back on. He slithered under his sheets, feeling like a nasty, greasy eel. _I’m so gross. I just got off to Seokjin. He’s too innocent, he’s too good for me and my nasty dick. I can’t believe this. What would my mother say?_ Namjoon actually thought on what his mother would think, and came across the conclusion that she wouldn’t actually give half a shit.

His eyes closed and he began to slip off into a regret-induced nap.

 

A text tone goes off at his desk, stirring Namjoon from his slumber. He sat up in his bed, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. The clock on his dresser read _8:59 PM_ , and Namjoon grunted at the fact he missed dinner.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Namjoon shuffled over to his desk, yawning as he unlocked his phone blindly. The contact at the top of his screen read _Seokjin-hyung_. He felt his stomach churn with guilt and anxiety at the pink heart emoji he had placed next to it, but suppressed the urge to start screaming as he read the text.

**Meet me outside in ten minutes.**

Namjoon nodded and send back a quick ok before he took a look at the time it was sent. _8:50 PM._

“Oh _fuck_!” Namjoon yelled, dropping his phone on his bed and shoveling through his drawers to find appropriate clothes to meet Seokjin in. He decided he didn’t have enough time for actually _coordinating_ an outfit, and threw on black shorts and a black tanktop with his converse. Shoving his phone in his back pocket, Namjoon frantically combed through his hair with his fingers as he jogged down the stairs of the building.

He could see Seokjin standing under a lamp beside the dormitories, a soft light emitting from his phone, causing his face to have a blue glow to it. A small frown graced his features, glancing up to look for Namjoon and smiling as soon as he saw his lanky, awkward friend stumbling toward him, looking winded and half asleep.

Namjoon straightened, sniffing indifferently as he shifted his weight to rest on one leg. “‘Sup? What did you need?”

Seokjin’s nostrils flared as he tried to keep his giggles from getting out of his throat. “Well.. I was going to ask you to go to the cornerstore with me, but I don’t think you’re dressed.”

“What?” As soon as Seokjin said something about it, a breeze kicked up around the two boys, and the cold caught up to Namjoon. Seokjin laughed as Namjoon shivered, untying some of his long ass scarf and winding it around Namjoon’s neck.

“Silly.” Seokjin scolded playfully, eyes scrunching up into little moons as he laughed at Namjoon’s dillema.

Namjoon could feel his insides melting as Seokjin’s tinkling laughter floated around them. The warmth from Seokjin’s scarf seeped into his fingers as he fiddled with the texture of the scarf, and the words _cinnamon roll_ and _too good for this world_ floated across Namjoon’s consciousness.

He felt a heavy cloth draped across his shoulders. “You’re gonna freeze to death out here, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he tried to shake Seokjin’s coat off of his shoulders. “You’re gonna freeze too!”

But Seokjin just giggled again and forced Namjoon’s arms into his coat. “Namjoon-ah, I’m not the one who woke up five minutes ago and decided to wear shorts and a tank top. I’m wearing a long sleeved shirt and pants, I’ll be fine.”

He opened his mouth to protest again, but was silenced by Seokjin’s stern glare that said _shut the fuck up and take my coat_. Namjoon found himself looking at his shoes again, and couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. “Thanks, hyung.”

Seokjin guided him toward the crosswalk, pressing the button even when there were no cars on the street. “It’s no problem.”

The walk to the corner store was nice enough, but he wasn’t exactly paying attention to the scenery. Seokjin, on the other hand, loved to point out the little things, like the newly repaved road, or the dead squirrel on the other side of the street.

Namjoon didn’t notice that Seokjin had the beanie that Namjoon had bought him a few weeks ago adorned until Seokjin reached up to adjust it. That was it. Namjoon was now the equivalent of Jello.

The store was lit harshly as they ventured in, the bored cashier not even sparing them a glance as Seokjin wandered through the aisles. Namjoon had no choice but to follow Seokjin, as they were connected at the neck.

Seokjin had a small basket perched on his forearm, putting little things like a package of ramen, a tooth brush, and breath mints into his basket.

“Are we done already?” Namjoon asked, looking over the items in the basket.

Seokjin seemed to ignore him as he crossed the store to the condom aisle. Namjoon’s eyes slowly widened as he saw Seokjin’s hand graze over the small, medium, and large sizes, and felt his knees begin to give out under his weight as he saw Seokjin grab a package of king size condoms like he were just picking out what he were going to wear.

Namjoon swore he had spots in his vision as Seokjin turned around, stone faced, and grabbed a bottle of lube. He placed it in his basket as if he didn’t just brutally murder Kim Namjoon. Seokjin spared a glance at Namjoon, smiling delicately before making his way toward the cash register.

The cashier didn’t blink an eye as she rang up the lube and condoms, as opposed to Namjoon, standing behind Seokjin, absolutely mortified. _Seokjin’s dick is bigger than my own dick! Innocent my ass!_ Suddenly, Namjoon didn't feel so bad about jacking off to Seokjin.

They’re walking again, venturing under a grove of trees, and Namjoon whispers, “..King size?”

Seokjin grins and looks at him from the side of his eye. “I thought you would wear the same size as me.”

Namjoon trips at least three times on the way home.

 

 

Namjoon never thought that Seokjin had actually wanted to go on that sushi date with him. But when Seokjin texted him a curt _when?_ , Namjoon immediately called the nearest sushi restaurant and reserved a table for the two of them.

“Right! Doesn’t he deserve more love?” Seokjin argued, shoving a piece of raw tuna into his mouth and chewed intensely.

“Personally,” Namjoon started, before taking a sip of his water and setting it down, “I think Jiho is a little shit.”

“That’s.. True.” Seokjin looked down at his food, mixing more wasabi into his soy sauce.

Namjoon gazed at Seokjin’s long eyelashes as the other prepared more of his food. “But Jaehyo _does_ need more love.” He rested his chin in his palm, casting his gaze down Seokjin’s face. “Jaehyo is beautiful.”

“That’s what I’m _saying_ , Namjoon-ah. Jaehyo protection squad.” Seokjin dropped his chopsticks, head snapping up to stare at Namjoon.

They hold each other’s stares for a few seconds, before breaking out into giggles. Their laughs kilter out, and Namjoon reaches for his water again. He examines the fishtank across the room as he sips more of his drink.

He hears Seokjin sigh. “This is nice.”

He looks back over, and Seokjin is playing with his food again, but this time, Seokjin is gazing up at him through his lashes. Namjoon’s breath leaves him in an instant, smiling serenely back at him. “Yeah.”

Seokjin smiles back. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm alive (barely)  
> this fic has been dead for 3 months but its back..  
> namjoon is whipped but honestly i was more focused on the fact that yoongi has tattoos im so happy..  
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://bpdyoongi.tumblr.com) here!  
> ps im sorry this is so short but school is slowly taking over my body yet again  
> pps more (may) be on the way  
> edit: this whole fic is being weird and wont show up on the lists bear with me


	4. Breathe (In; Out)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turning his head up to stare up at Seokjin’s broad back, he saw an angel. An angry, pissed off angel who just bitch slapped two grown-ass men because they wouldn’t move out of the way of the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> strap in kids

The rattling of his skull against the hardwood floor woke Namjoon, cracking an eyelid open and groaning as the sharp stench of vomit and piss slapped him in the face. Grimacing at the poor girl, assumably the one who threw up then wet herself, Namjoon hauled himself to his feet. The world almost slipped from under his feet again and he then realized he was tipsy, at the least buzzed, and he felt the urge to call for Seokjin.

The party was still newly fresh, most of the frat boys either passed out in various areas throughout the house and the ones who were still fully conscious were probably busy fucking their brains out or spending the night with a shiny porcelain bowl that smells like piss and mixed liquor. Namjoon was in the middle of it all, it seemed, as there was a young lady that proceeded to jump on top of the kitchen counter and rip her shirt off, leading half of the population of the house to scream in approval.

Namjoon blinked, feeling himself sober at the sight of half-naked college kids he vaguely remembers taking General Ed classes with bringing him to his senses, and he wandered off in search of a beer.

Yoongi slammed into him, giggling wildly as his Heineken sloshes onto the front of his shirt. “Sorry ‘bout that--” His eyes trailed up Namjoon’s body, almost lazily, the whites of his eyes tinged pink. They widen as they reach Namjoon’s own eyes. “Namjoonie! My little man!”

“Yoongi, I’m two inches taller than you.”

“Shut up!” Yoongi smiles as he shoves an unopened can of beer into his chest. He takes a sip of his drink. “Jackson got more stuff.”

Namjoon frowned as he snapped the can open. “I thought he stopped smoking weed,” He muses as he stares into the lukewarm drink.

“Not anymore. C’mon, let’s go smoke some shit or somethin’ fucked up like that.” Namjoon couldn’t utter another word as Yoongi dragged him off toward the door under the stairs.

The trek down to the basement was sketchy as Yoongi shoved through couples making out on the stairs, threatening to throw someone down the stairs if they didn’t move out of his way. Jackson looked up from rolling (presumably) another blunt, grinning up at him.

“Namjoon! Good to see ya!” He slurred, taking a drag from the half-finished blunt he had stationed between his middle and ring finger. “Sorry Bobby’s acting all weird right now, doesn’t get high very much.”

Bobby is upside down, tears streaming down his face as he sang Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” to Siri, his head resting in Jooheon’s lap. Staring up at the ceiling, Jooheon’s mouth was wide open, appearing to be in some sort of wide-eyed sleep or more likely high as motherfuckin’ hell.

“Jackson, pass the _fucking blunt,_ you little slut.” Woo Jiho spoke thickly, leaning over to tug on Jackson’s wrist. “It’s puff puff pass, not puff puff keep it all to my fucking self.”

Yoongi leaned down and snatched the blunt out of Jackson’s fingers, taking a drag himself. “Move the fuck over, I’m sitting my fat ass down.”

Jiho gave Yoongi a strange look. “You’re like, 100 pounds and you’re 5’7” or some shit. You’re tiny.”

“I’m going to burn you.” Yoongi sighs out, smoke rushing past his lips and he tips his head back. “God, that feels good.”

Bobby belts out a high note that causes his voice to crack. Jiho slaps his phone away from his hand. “Kim Jiwon, God damn it, _shut the fuck up!_ You sound like a damn coyote!”

Jiwon glances from his empty hand to Jiho’s red-rimmed eyes, and bursts into tears again.

“Why the fuck are you crying?!”

“I’m fucking _drunk_ , dickhat!”

Namjoon sighs as Yoongi tugs him down into a sitting position. Yoongi holds the blunt in front of Namjoon’s face. “Want some?”

“No.” Seokjin’s disappointed face flashes in his mind’s eye.

“Why not?” Yoongi pouts. Namjoon studies the way the snake tattoo curls around Yoongi’s hand and fingers.

“Seokjin.”

Yoongi pauses for a second, then guffaws. “C’mon, Joonie, he won’t know!” Choruses of _‘Aw, yeah, Namjoonie, c’mon!’_ from the other potheads take a sledgehammer to his wall of self-control.

“I don’t really want to.. Seokjin wouldn’t want me to.”

“Do it. You’re already going to be high from breathing the smoke in anyways.” Yoongi clicks his tongue, taking another drag while staring Namjoon in the eye.

Namjoon swallows and looks away, meeting Jackson’s gaze. The older pouts, putting his hands together as if he were begging.

“..Fine.” Cheers erupt as Yoongi slaps his back, puff, puff, passing the blunt to Namjoon.

Namjoon closes his eyes, the heartbeat of the bass accelerating his own, and inhales.

 

Seokjin weaves his way through a crowd of drunk, sweaty college kids, eyebrows narrowed in a pissed off expression. That God damn dumbass left his phone in the bathroom. Seokjin had held his hair back for him while he puked in the toilet! He leaves the room for one second, one _tiny fucking second_ , and Namjoon decides to pull a Houdini and disappear for two hours. The _nerve_ of that motherfucker.

A sweaty frat boy, collar popped and glasses cushioned on his overly-gelled hair, swoops in next to Seokjin. “Hey, pretty boy.” His breath reeks of cheap beer and drugstore chapstick. “Wanna head back to my room? You look pretty stressed out.” Seokjin’s skin crawls as he drags sticky fingers up his bare arm. “I could.. help you out.”

He wills back the tears, blinking furiously to rid his eyes of any tears. “No thank you,” He grits out, “But do you know where Kim Namjoon is?”

He smells like cheap cologne, flooding Seokjin’s nostrils as he begins to back Seokjin up to a wall. “Who?” he caws, hand clamping to Seokjin’s bicep like the claws of a vulture. _Fucking scumbag._

“Get off of me.” Seokjin snaps, jerking his arm away from the boy’s squeezing hands.

“What?” The kid sneers, almost choking on his own spit. He drops his drink, a red solo cup splashing beer onto Seokjin’s shoes. “You don’t get to decide this,  _I_ make the rules here. And the rule says your pretty lips should be wrapped around my-”

Seokjin’s fist slams into the scumbag’s face before he could say another word, Seokjin’s foot following suit as it flies into his stomach. The boy tumbles, falling onto his ass before he retches his meal and drinks onto the floor. Seokjin scrunches his face up in disgust, scratching at his arm to rid himself the feeling of a vulture’s slimy claws wrapping themselves around his arms.

Venturing into the kitchen, the last place he had talked to Namjoon, his luck is dry. Namjoon was nowhere to be seen.

A large hand grasped his shoulder and spun him around. “Hey, heard you’re lookin’ for Kim Namjoon?”

Seokjin met Woo Jiho’s lethargic gaze and he felt himself sigh in relief. One of Namjoon’s friends.

“Yeah, where is he?” Jiho nodded his head toward the basement door, leading Seokjin away from the blaring music and screams of the crowd down to the bottom floor.

“He’s right here.”

Namjoon is resting against Yoongi’s hands, which currently hold him up by his face as their owner covers his face in smooches. His boyfriend is wrinkling his face up in mock disgust as Yoongi mashes a kiss onto his nose. “My little baby, I love you. I’m gonna pay for your college fees.”

“Hyung,” Namjoon drawls out, face relaxing as Yoongi pulls away from assaulting his face. “I’m here on a scholarship.”

“I don’ care!” Yoongi hiccups. “I want.. I want to pay for you. Anything you wan’, Nammie, I’ll pay.”

Namjoon stared blankly at the wall, mouth hanging open as his brain slowly churned. “So.. Like..” He spoke slowly, “A.. suga daddy?”

Yoongi’s lips formed a perfect ‘o’. “A suga daddy.” He agreed, and they both laughed.

Seokjin felt his blood boil. “Kim.” Jiwon and Namjoon both looked up. “Nam.” Jiwon looked away, disinterested. Namjoon’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Pink tinged saucers. “ _Joon_.” Namjoon’s lips parted to spill out a hasty explanation, but Seokjin held out a hand, silencing him. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

Namjoon’s mouth clamped shut as Seokjin grips his forearm and begins to drag him out of the basement. His ass hitting every step as Seokjin lugs him upstairs, Namjoon waved goodbye to the group of stoners, Jackson yelling out a ‘Good luck!’ and taking the blunt from Yoongi.

Turning his head up to stare up at Seokjin’s broad back, he saw an angel. An angry, pissed off angel who just bitch slapped two grown-ass men because they wouldn’t move out of the way of the front door. As his butt hits the porch step on the way out, he feels the cool air of a breezy January night and watches as the two guys hold their cheeks, mouthing ‘what the fuck’ at Namjoon’s beautiful boyfriend. Namjoon mouths back, ‘I don’t even know’.

He hears a snappy buzzing sound and realizes that sound is Seokjin talking. “.. Just damn, Kim Namjoon, you’re really in for it now!” Namjoon didn’t hear the beginning of that sentence, but he only sort of maybe falls a bit more in love with Seokjin.

 

After being dragged across campus (rough on his ass), then hauled to his feet and forced to stumble up a flight of stairs to his dorm, Namjoon’s legs give out on him. Seokjin groans and searches through the pockets of his pants. Keys jingling as he pulls them out of Namjoon’s jeans, Seokjin unlocks the door and throws Namjoon over his shoulder, closing the door behind him with his foot and laying him down on the bed.

Namjoon parts his legs subconsciously, closing his eyes and waiting for Seokjin’s soft hands to tug his jeans down and punish him for misbehaving. Seokjin turns on the light next to his bed, the brightness seeping through his eyelids, and Namjoon throws his arms over his eyes and awaits for Seokjin to manhandle him.

He almost drools at the thought.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Seokjin’s voice breaks through his thoughts. Namjoon peeks out from under his forearms.

“Waiting?”

Seokjin’s expression softens. “Waiting for what?”

“For you to punish me.” Namjoon drawls.

The older man chokes on his own spit. “Why the fuck would you spread..?”

Namjoon pulls his arms back above his head, wrists together. He lifts his hips and gives Seokjin puppydog eyes.

“Wait- What- No!” Seokjin strangles out, the apples of his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “You’re drunk _and_ high, Namjoon.”

“So?” The blond huffed. “Discipline me. That’s why you dragged me outta there.”

Seokjin sighed, sitting on the floor next to Namjoon’s bed. “That’s rape.”  
“It’s discipline for me!” Namjoon whined. “I deserve it. No one else does.”

“Namjoon!” Seokjin snapped. “I’m not going to fuck you into the bed as punishment. That’s rape. I don’t know why you think you deserve to be ‘punished’ but I’m not going to punish you.”

Namjoon blinked tiredly and pulled his hands down from the headboard. “Okay, Daddy.”

“I’m not your dad, Namjoon.”

“Play catch with me.”

Seokjin turned, giving Namjoon a dangerous look. “We both know that’s not what you meant. You’re drunk, Namjoon.”

“Okay.” Namjoon wrapped his arms around Seokjin’s neck. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you acting so weird, Joonie?” Seokjin hummed, mood lightening up as Namjoon nuzzled lovingly into the back of his neck. His boyfriend was always afraid to initiate romantic contact, even after four months of dating; Seokjin still had to tell him that it was alright to hold his hand without asking. It was almost as if Namjoon were holding himself back. As if he were afraid of something.

“I love you, Seokjin.” Namjoon pressed a kiss to his ear. “I love you.” He whispered. “I love you so much.” He pressed their cheeks together.

Seokjin smiled. “I love you too, Namjoon, even when you disobey me and smoke weed when I told you to quit.”

“I haven’ smoked since high school, okay?” His boyfriend purred, pressing his lips against the corner of Seokjin’s mouth. “It makes me feel nice. Like I love you, but now it’s like the whole world makes me feel like you make me feel when I’m sober.” Seokjin’s eyebrows lifted in slight suprise. “You breathe life into me. Everything you do or say makes me feel like I’m really alive again.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin exhaled; he forgot exactly how poetic Namjoon is, especially when he’s drunk.

He shifted in his spot, and his foot hit something long and thin. _Oh, God_ , Seokjin thought morbidly. _Please don’t be a dildo, please don’t be a dildo_. He reached and brought back an old yearbook.

“Oh no.” Namjoon dropped his arms from Seokjin’s shoulders, instead reaching to swipe the yearbook out of Seokjin’s palms.

“Oh yes.” Seokjin cackled, leafing through the pages. “Middle school?”

“No!” Namjoon cried. “I look so bad in that one!”

“Oh, please, you always look handsome.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, landing on Namjoon’s picture. Seokjin sharply inhales, holding his breath so he doesn’t snort at Namjoon’s ridiculous haircut.

“Kill me.”

Seokjin burst out laughing, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.

“You’re laughing at me!” Namjoon whines, slapping at the book again.

“No!” Seokjin howls, head hitting the mattress as he cackles. “It’s cute!” Namjoon groans in response, feeling a bit more sober than he was five minutes ago. Seokjin wipes a tear from his eyes. “You wore glasses? I didn’t know you had contacts.”

“Only wear ‘em sometimes.” Namjoon sighs out. “Right now I’m pretty blind.”

“Aww,” Seokjin places a hand on Namjoon’s cheek. “You look cute with them on.”

Namjoon leans into the heat of Seokjin’s hand. “You’ve never seen me with them on.”

“I know you look cute in them, shut up.” Seokjin cranes his neck to look under the small crawlspace beneath Namjoon’s bed, cheering when he pulls out a whole collection of Namjoon’s worst and best memories. Namjoon groans in disapproval and pushes his head into his sheets.

Seokjin laughs at a few more pictures of Namjoon-- Namjoon groans and moans to every one of them-- and finally reaches for his last yearbook. “Third year, huh?” Seokjin smiles. “High school isn’t fun, anyways. Thank God we left.”

“You left, like, two years ago.” Namjoon murmured, peering over the edge of the mattress.

“Still glad we left, but at different times.” Seokjin smiles as he flips to Namjoon’s class page. He gasps. “Look at your cheeks! You look so cute!” Seokjin exclaims, pointing excitedly to Namjoon’s photo. Namjoon smiled shyly. “So smart and sophisticated! God, you really are the top 1%. So smart and cute!” Seokjin turned to compare Namjoon’s picture to Namjoon himself. “Ah, so shy, Joonie.”

Namjoon giggles and covers his face, pushing the book away. “Stop, I know I changed from then. It’s not such a big deal.”

“Your hair improved.” Seokjin ran his fingers through his silvery hair. “It’s blond, but not really.”

“It’s alright.” Namjoon murmured, watching as Seokjin resumed flipping through the pages and looking at each of the years.

He didn’t realize until Seokjin had flipped to the first years’ section. Jeon.

Namjoon is scanning the page lazily, listening to Seokjin coo over random first years and their ‘chubby little cheeks’, when he spots him. Seokjin’s ramblings fade into static as a certain face stares back up at Namjoon accusingly. Jeon Jungkook peers up at Namjoon with the most fatigued and hopeless eyes he had ever seen on him.

He knows it’s because of him.

Namjoon is vaguely aware of the way his shoulders begin to tremble, but he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels Seokjin’s breath pass over the wet coolness of his cheeks. Fingers brush his shoulder. He hears a muffled _‘Namjoon?’_ , but he doesn’t think he really hears it; he just experiences it.

Seokjin calls Namjoon’s name again, distress laced into his voice like nicotine is laced into a cigarette, but he just squeezes his eyes tight and swallows back a sob.

“Namjoon, what’s wrong, baby?” He registers Seokjin’s warm voice trying to figure him out but Namjoon shakes his head and _nothing’s wrong, hyung. I’m just drunk._

Seokjin frowns and pets his hair, saying something about the fact that it’s not nothing if hes crying, honey, and Namjoon presses his palms into his eyes because why can’t he stop fucking _crying_ and he can feel a howl building in his throat and he can’t _breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t fucking_ breathe.

Namjoon gasps for breath, Seokjin’s urgent fingers lacing with his own, and this time he can’t hold back the mournful wail that tears out of his throat, raw and dismal, and he chokes, gulping for air as he starts to sob into his hand.

Seokjin is stunned into silence because this hit _so fucking suddenly_ and he doesn’t know how to calm Namjoon down. Namjoon is usually so calm and under control, and a thought crosses his mind that maybe this is what he always needed to do.

Seokjin is silent and Namjoon misses his voice, hyung, he misses the way he used to laugh at him when he did something stupid and the way he would bite his lip when he was nervous and he misses the way he relied on him for everything and he misses him, hyung, he hurt him so fucking terribly he can’t sleep at night and the only relief he can manage to find is in the form of a bottle of whiskey and tar flavored cigarettes and fuck, he’s so fucking stupid, he’s such a piece of shit and he should just die already.

By the end of his rant that he wasn’t completely aware was spoken aloud in a shaking voice, Namjoon’s shaking intensely and everything is blurry (when did he open his eyes?) because he doesn’t have his contacts in and his tears are fucking with his sight. He can’t miss the way Seokjin wraps his arms around his waist as he rocks him gently back and forth, hushing him.

“It’s okay.” Seokjin hushes, running his fingers through his sweaty locks.

Namjoon shook his head. “It’s not okay, hyung. I ruined him.”  
“Namjoon.”

“I don’t know how he is or what he’s even doing or if he’s still limping along or if he’s _dead_.”

“Namjoon..”

“I can’t defend him anymore. I fucked up. I can’t protect him.” He chokes on the last word, biting down harshly on his lip and clenching his eyes shut.

“ _Namjoon_.” Seokjin spoke firmly, and Namjoon opened his eyes timidly and made to apologize for being _annoying and God, should’ve never opened my mouth._ “You can’t protect him forever. You have to let him grow on his own. You can’t expect to keep him in your arms forever.”

Namjoon knows Seokjin is right. He’s aware, but the wicked side of him that has the reins on him wants Jungkook back in his arms. He wants Jungkook back in his room playing Sonic Adventure 2, reading his dumb comics. He wants the secret sleepovers when Jungkook crawls through his bedroom window and sleeps on his floor. He wants the feeling of brushing his fingertips over Jungkook’s as the younger sleeps, imagining an alternate world where he could intertwine his fingers with Jungkook’s own and have a peaceful evening in the park with him. But instead Namjoon burns it all down, burns everything down, lets the flames lick at his heels as he runs from it all trying to kiss his wounds. Burns it all down like the tree that mysteriously burst into flame after he had graduated, but he knew that Jungkook was the one that burnt down that tree and burnt down his dream and damn if he knows it’s his fault but he just wants to blame someone else.

He can’t blame Seokjin for this. He can’t blame Jungkook for this. He knows who to blame.

Seokjin has been sitting with him in silence for the past five minutes, pressing kisses to Namjoon’s forehead as he cradles his head in his arms and shushes him.

“You’re right.” Namjoon croaks. Seokjin looks down at him, eyes rimmed in red (when did Seokjin start crying?), eyebrows raised.

Namjoon is silent for a few counts as he swallows, throat losing it’s dryness. His breath stutters as Seokjin strokes his hair. “He wasn’t mine and he never will be. I need to let him go.”

Seokjin bites his lip after kissing Namjoon’s cheek. “You’ll see him again.”

“God,” Namjoon laughs humorlessly, almost like an extra breath of air in his lungs escaping him after so long. “I hope not. I could never look him in the eyes after what I did to him.”

His boyfriend toys with his damp hair. “Can I ask what you did?”

Tree branches and solemn eyes flash in Namjoon’s mind. He takes a deep breath.

“He told me he was gay. I freaked out and left him in the dirt.”

“Why?”

Namjoon swallows thickly. “I loved him. I was too afraid of my own fucking feelings so I didn’t confront them, or him for that matter, so I left him in that fucking tree.”

Seokjin coughs out a wry laugh. “He told you in a tree?”

“Yeah. I wanted to climb a tree before I left for college and he made me climb up.” Namjoon smiles at the memory.

“He sounds wonderful.” Namjoon’s eyes snap to Seokjin’s, a smile on the older man’s face.

“..He was.” Namjoon took a deep breath. Clean. “I hope he’s okay.”

Seokjin’s thumbs caressed his cheekbones. “Are _you_ okay?”

Namjoon nodded.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was an EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER TO WRITE  
> i'm sorry i havent updated this since september or done anything since november lol :'( school has gotten busy and i had finals a few weeks ago but now i'm on break! :)  
> feel free to yell at me! cry with me! scream! talk about how lovely seokjin is (in this fic and in real life) with me!  
> [twitter](http://bpdyoongi.tumblr.com>tumblr</a>%20%7C%20<a%20href=)
> 
> and yes i did mean to not italicize that last breathe  
> im just a simple high schooler forgive me if this isnt how american college frat parties go also dont forget to leave kudos thanks lol


	5. Amor Fati

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll burn in hell hot enough for the both of us, baby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS 2 JEN FOR PROOFREADING!!!!!!!!!

Coconuts and a hint of hazel wafted into Namjoon’s nostrils as he followed broad shoulders into Seokjin’s apartment. “God, your scent gets really fucking strong in here,” Namjoon blurts, toeing off his shoes and leaving them next to Seokjin’s pair of beat-up sneakers.

Seokjin turns and sticks his tongue out at him, his nose creasing as his face crinkles into a faux-snotty expression. “You saying I stink, Smelly?” He scoffs.

“Smelly?” Namjoon echoes.

“Smelly,” Seokjin’s voice is light with teasing, “I know you didn’t put on cologne this morning.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, gaze catching on the cross that adorned the otherwise plain hallway. “I still put on deodorant,” He mumbles, “I don’t smell that bad.”

“No, you don’t, you only _kind of_ smell like B.O.” Seokjin cackles, kissing the younger on the cheek. “Just kidding. You smell like Old Spice.”

Squinting, Namjoon pulls back to catch Seokjin’s eyes. “Is that,” He starts, “Sexy?”

Seokjin stares back, blank as a piece of printer paper, then grunts and stands to his full height. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Joonie.” He snorts, heading down the hallway to the bathroom. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be in the bathroom.”

Namjoon grunts in response, scooting carefully into the larger part of the studio apartment. He could count how many times he had been in Seokjin’s place on his right hand (not counting his broken finger; damn you, Jung Hoseok!), and it was even fewer times he’d been more than three steps deep. Hakyeon, Seokjin’s roommate, was usually home and had a couple of friends over and never seemed to leave unless he had to go to class. Namjoon didn’t exactly _dislike_ Hakyeon and his gang, but medium-sized groups of people that he didn’t know all that well made him uncomfortable as the recluse of the 21st century and Seokjin, knowing his social anxiety, would smile and understand when he whispered that he wanted to go home.

What Namjoon really didn’t expect at _all_ was the decorations of Jesus Christ hanging on his crucifix on different places on the walls. Seokjin wasn’t exactly the type to seem overly religious, and if he knew Hakyeon and his pot (get it) of rumors well enough, that man was the _opposite_ of a Jesus Christ fanatic.

Jesus stared at Namjoon. Namjoon stared back. Is this Christianity? He felt bad for talking shit about Jesus’s followers. Or were they Jesus stans? Did he take his ADHD medication today?

Blinking, Namjoon scoured the room for any other pictures. A picture of Hakyeon and a man who looked exactly like him (just with a few wrinkles) was framed by the TV stand. _Hakyeon and his father._ Did his dad know that he popped ecstasy at the last frat party he went to? Did Jesus know?

Big question: Where was a picture of Seokjin and his family? Eyes combing throughout the scantily decorated apartment, all Namjoon could find was a mini pink bible next to Seokjin’s bed (presumably Seokjin’s bed. Who else would have a Princess Peach pillowcase?) A simple frame was hung on the wall behind him, a professional photo of Hakyeon and the rest of the Cha clan. Where was Seokjin’s family?

Seokjin only ever talked about his older brother who visited on occasion, usually bringing some candy or a few extra thousand won. Scattered paper bills rest on the coffee table beside him.

The click of the bathroom door shutting behind Seokjin roused Namjoon from his mini-snoop fest, sitting straight and attentive as Seokjin relaxes into the couch next to him and pokes his side. “Why are you erect?”

Namjoon presses his lips together, a blush creeping up his neck. “‘Erect’? Really?”

“Erect.” Seokjin’s thumb sweeps across his screen as he launches into Twitter. “I love making you embarrassed.”

Namjoon turns toward him and scowls as Seokjin smiles up at him, the picture of virtue and all of the world’s purity. His frown deepens along with his blush.

“It’s a 10-point vocabulary word.” Seokjin offers as he opens his arms. Namjoon huffs as he collapses into his arms, snuggling into the column of Seokjin’s neck.

“Vocabulary word my ass,” He grumbles as he watches thumbs tap across the dingy screen. “Turn your brightness up.”

“No, I don’t need to waste my battery like you.”

“I don’t even-”

“Every time you post a screenshot on Twitter your phone is at like, 13%. Don’t give me that.”

Namjoon pouts and burrows deeper into Seokjin’s arms. “I hate when you’re right.” His arm wraps around Seokjin’s waist. Seokjin hums and kisses Namjoon’s scruffy hair.

“Oh, I got this new Mario game from the store the other day! I wanted it for a while but I couldn’t get it because I didn’t have a Wii U but,” Seokjin smiles as he points across at the shiny black console sitting atop of the TV stand, “My brother got me one as a late birthday present!”

“Damn, that’s a cool gift to get from your brother. My sister would get me fucking My Little Pony dolls or some shit.”

“Aw,” Seokjin frowns, “Those are cute! Your sister is a little angel.”

“She purposely shat on my bed!” Seokjin gave him a look. “..Okay, in a diaper.” The Look intensified. “When I was 11 and she was like, 2 or 3.” The Look stared into his soul. “Okay, fine, she’s innocent! Stop doing that stare, you’re making me feel like a shitty brother.”

Seokjin flicked his nose. “I stand for all younger siblings against older terror siblings like _you.”_

A glower adorned Namjoon’s face before one hung itself on Seokjin’s, the two having an intense glower-off until they both erupted into laughter. “Okay, your brother got you a Wii U. Cool. What did your parents get you?”

The laughter in Seokjin’s eyes immediately dies out, a choking sound gurgling up from his throat. It looked as if he had choked on his spit or maybe heard that his dog died. Namjoon’s eyebrows raise a by the tenth of a fraction.

Seokjin immediately snaps back into play, the light in his eyes absent. “Oh I got..” He trails off, gaze frantically searching for a random object in the room, “That TV!”

He chuckles humorlessly. Namjoon frowns. “I thought you had that before the Wii U?”

Seokjin stares at his reflection in the TV. It’s silent.

“Sorry.” Namjoon whispers, pressing his palm into Seokjin’s. Change the subject. “I never noticed you were religious.”

Seokjin swallows and glances at the crucifix in the hallway. “Yeah, Hakyeon is more religious than I am but, I mean, I believe in God.” A sigh is let out through his nose. “I know you’re Athiest so I never really wanted to push my religion on you. Hakyeon prays a fuckton, even when you were here for those 20 seconds. How did you not notice?”

Namjoon decides his shoes are suddenly _extremely_ interesting. “I don’t know, I was too busy paying attention to you.” He scratches behind his burning ears. “I don’t pay as much attention to him because I’m paying attention to you.”

Seokjin snickers and slaps Namjoon’s arm playfully. “You’re a dope.”

“Hey!” Namjoon whines, slapping him back. “I am not a fucking dope.”

His boyfriend just laughs louder, tugging Namjoon up from the couch and pushing him onto his bed. Namjoon crosses his arms, rouge dotting across his cheeks and spreading to the tips of his ears. Kissing along his blush, Seokjin places himself on top of his embarrassed boyfriend.

“Stop grimacing, you’re gonna get wrinkles in your forehead, and then you’ll look 40.”

“Thanks for ruining the mood.” Namjoon grumbles.

“There wasn’t even a mood before this!”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around Seokjin’s shoulders and tugging him down for a kiss. Seokjin purrs against him, plush lips embracing Namjoon’s own as they melt into each other. A soft hand comes up to gently embrace Namjoon’s cheek, thumb pressing into the side of his cheek to signal him to open his mouth. Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s tongue crowds into his own mouth and his fingers come up to toy with the short hairs on the back of Seokjin’s neck.

Seokjin was definitely dominant in this situation but he _definitely_ was not pushy. Seokjin’s left hand trailed down the side of Namjoon’s torso, stopping at his hip to massage his side with his thumb. The wet sound of lips breaking apart was followed by low pants as they both regained their breath. Namjoon’s eyes fluttered as Seokjin kissed along his jaw, legs spreading to cage Namjoon in under him. Namjoon sighs in muted pleasure, running his hands down Seokjin’s back and hooking onto his belt loops, dragging him back up to his lips.

Chuckling as he takes Namjoon’s lips once again, Seokjin tangles his fingers into Namjoon’s silvery hair and tugs lightly. Namjoon releases a light sound from his throat, mouth relaxing for Seokjin to occupy and plunder as he threads through his hair.

They break for a breath of air again, Seokjin rolling to the side of Namjoon and propping himself up on his pillow. Namjoon huffs airily, attempting to catch his breath as he watches Seokjin open the window by his bed, allowing the cool afternoon breeze of late January sweep across them.

Seokjin reaches under his pillow for something and slides out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Namjoon grimaces. “You need to stop smoking. It’s really not good.”

“I know,” Seokjin lights his cigarette, “But I need it right now.” He stares into the neighborhood below them.

Namjoon links his hand with Seokjin’s unoccupied hand as Seokjin billows smoke out the window like a factory pipe. “What’s wrong? Why are you so stressed?”

Seokjin taps the excess ashes on the edge of the window sill, burning as they disintegrate in the sharp air, and takes another drag. Namjoon figures that he isn’t going to say anything else so he rests his head against Seokjin’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“God doesn’t love me.” The heavy vibration in Seokjin’s chest startles Namjoon, who lifts his head from its rest.

“What?” Namjoon squeezes his hand. “Of course he does.”

“No.” The older states bluntly. Namjoon glances up at Seokjin; his face is grim. “He really doesn’t.”

“He does.” He struggles to retrieve the information he had learned from one session of church service. “I don’t know a lot about God, but he does love you. He loves everyone, right?”

“If he loved me, he would make parents who loved me too.” Smoke escapes from Seokjin’s lips as he speaks, closing his eyes.

“Babe, your parents do love you.”

Seokjin grimaces as if he just registered the noxious taste of his cigarette. “No.” Seokjin barely manages to scratch out. “Can you get me my ashtray?”

Namjoon reaches over and pulls open the nightstand drawer, retrieving the small silver ashtray and allowing Seokjin to snuff out his cig. He sets it on the stand and turns his body back to face Seokjin, who digs his palms into his eyes. He takes a deep breath and drops his hands back down to his lap, eyes remaining closed. Fingers dig into the flesh of his palm.

“Namjoon, please.” Seokjin whispers.

Namjoon scoots slightly closer. “What do you need?”

He takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know, just- please.”

Namjoon rubs a thumb into one of Seokjin’s palms, stopping his fingernails from cutting into his skin, while he presses a kiss to Seokjin’s temple, his cheekbone, the corner of his lips. He murmurs into his ear, “I love you, alright? You’re so important to me. You brought a new reason to live into my life. I would sell everything I own, anything I can put my name to just to be with you one more day. Just so I could see your beautiful face and your soft smile and your adorable laugh. So I could see the way your nose crinkles up when you tease me or when you see a really cute dog, and you tear up because it’s so fuckin’ cute.” He kisses his cheek again. “I love everything about you. I love your flaws and how you work through them so you can be the most fucking dazzling, radiant person you can be.” Namjoon straddles Seokjin’s waist, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him properly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I’m so happy that I fell in love with you.”

Seokjin’s fingers tighten and loosen in the baggy material of Namjoon’s jacket, breath leaving him in shaky puffs before he’s burying his face in the joint of Namjoon’s neck where his hood is bunched up and his scent is the most intense and he breathes him in like a breath of fresh air. Namjoon rubs his broad back, pressing kisses to the dark head of hair as he rocks him back and forth. Seokjin is shivering intensely and Namjoon has no fucking clue if he’s crying or not until he hears Seokjin sniffle quietly against his neck, his arms hugging him tighter as he finally cracks and dissolves into tears.

Namjoon holds him closer, his chest aching as he whispers soft things into his ear but it just makes him cry _harder_ and _fuck_ _, why does this hurt so much?_

“Baby, baby,” Namjoon whispers, pushing Seokjin just the slightest bit away from him so he can see his face, “Why are you crying so hard, baby, what’s wrong?” Seokjin ducks his head away but Namjoon catches his chin in his hand, tenderly guiding his face toward him and _wow_ , even with snot dripping from his nose and his eyes puffy and bloodshot, he’s still the most gorgeous person Namjoon’s ever seen.

“I just..” Seokjin hiccups and shrugs, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand. “I don’t know why I’m crying so hard.”

Namjoon frowns and caresses his cheek with his thumb, wiping a few tears that trickled down his face. “C’mon, ‘Jin, it’s alright.”

He sniffles and presses his palm to his mouth, pondering. Closing his eyes, he rubs away the leftover tears that coat his cheeks. “My parents kicked me out when I was 18.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed. “What..? You were a perfect student! You were the perfect son!”

Seokjin scoffs and nods, a slight hitch in his breath. “I was an accident, Namjoon. I was never supposed to be born.” He sniffles again. “They couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

Namjoon leans over and snatches a tissue from his bedstand, wiping away the excess snot and tears from Seokjin’s face. “No, baby, they love you, I’m sure.”

“No. I’m a fucking mistake.” His mouth makes a shaky line. “They only wanted my brother but my mother got pregnant again. Since my family is religious she didn’t want an abortion or to give me to an adoption center so they all had to care for me and drag me along, even though they really didn’t want me.”

“Seokjin, you’re not a mistake. You were meant to be here.” Namjoon swallows nervously. “God let you be here.”

“Namjoon, stop with the bullshit.” Seokjin snapped. “You’re not even religious. Please stop telling me that God wants me here, because if He did, He would’ve given me a better life.”

“He does. He means everything, He’s fucking God. This is what you’re meant to fight through; this is what makes you stronger.”

“I’m going to Hell anyways.” Seokjin rubs his fingers, easing the hissing pain of the cramping.

“Why?” Namjoon asks, “Because you’re gay? I thought that was disproven.”

“I had sex before marriage, I’m going to fucking Hell, Namjoon, mistakes go to Hell, they’re not wanted so they go in the abnormal piles and go to be fucking burned.”

“We’ve.. We’ve never had sex.” Namjoon frowns. “You’re not a mistake, and you’re not going to Hell. You’re the best person I’ve ever known.”

Seokjin completely removes himself from Namjoon, backing up against the wall. Namjoon’s eyebrows fly up in concern and he reaches for his hand, but Seokjin pulls away. “You wouldn’t want to touch me after you find out what I’ve done, Namjoon-sshi.”

Namjoon feels tears pricking the backs of his eyes because _no, I love you for whatever you’ve done, please don’t pull away from me, don’t go._

He sees a hint of hysteria in Seokjin’s eyes and Namjoon’s eyebrows raise as Seokjin smiles uneasily, lips dry and cracked from the small heat of the cigarette. “When I got kicked out, I had no way to pay for myself. I got a job at the local grocery store because that was the only thing I could really achieve with no work experience. But it wasn’t enough, Namjoon. I had to become a fucking hooker.”

Seokjin’s eyes become glassy as he stares directly into Namjoon’s face, hands shivering as he curls them into fists. “You want to touch a dirty _whore,_ Namjoon? A pretty little thing that’s been on the backstreets of Seoul’s red light district at 3AM? Two cocks up my ass with one in my mouth?” His grin widens and his eyes overflow with a new batch of tears, his words becoming more separated and pained as he goes on. “I can be a good little hooker for you, Namjoon. I’ll be fine. I’ll burn in hell hot enough for the both of us, baby. I can take the blame like I can take your dick down my throat-”

“ _Stop!”_ Namjoon screams as he slams his hands over Seokjin’s mouth because _no,_ he shouldn’t be degrading himself like this, and he can’t believe that Seokjin thinks he won’t love him anymore even though he’s so strong and brave and even after he’s gone through all this shit, he’s still such a kind, thoughtful person.

“Please, Seokjin.” Namjoon whimpers, breath shaking intensely. “Please.”

Seokjin’s breath puffs out in short bursts against Namjoon’s hand from his nose as his eyes turn from feral to weary. Namjoon pulls his hand away.

Seokjin stares back at him, fatigued. His voice cracks as he speaks. “How are you still here after all that?”

Namjoon swallows loudly. “I care about your past, Seokjin, I respect it. You had to do what you had to do to survive. You’re strong and you’re a survivor and even after all that shit and mistreatment and neglect you’re still the most fucking magnificent person I’ve ever met.”

Seokjin and Namjoon hold eye contact, Seokjin still quiet. He finally lets out a sigh.

“Maybe God does love me. He sent me an angel.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows rise slightly and he inches toward Seokjin.

“You’re my blessing, Namjoon.” Seokjin reaches for Namjoon’s hand and tugs him toward himself. “I love you. I’m happy I got that off my chest.”

Namjoon smiles shyly, sinking into the bed next to him and putting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, kissing his neck. “I love you too.”

He closes his eyes after watching the final rays of the sun fall behind the horizon with his boyfriend. Even with the window open, he’s still the warmest he’s felt in his entire life.

 

_It’s cold._

_The wind breezes in the dead branches of the tree. Two figures are in the spindly tree; Namjoon can see one abscond quickly from the twigs, a small, lithe figure chasing after the slightly taller one, screaming for him to stay. The scene twists Namjoon’s stomach into knots because no, this isn’t what this is, why did he leave him, no, no!_

_Time lapses quickly before Namjoon’s eyes; fall and winter pass and a chilly breeze surrounds him as Jungkook saunters up to the tree. He huffs into his hands, a puff of smoke dissipating into the sharp February air. The young boy glances around the abandoned park, nose buried in his dark scarf as his stodgy eyes scan the barren fields._

_A fire lights in his hand as he strikes a match and turns back toward the bare tree, gathering dry leaves around the base and dropping the match onto them with a light tap. The boy steps back from the tree as the flames grow brighter, consuming the base of the tree with its flames eating up the dried-out bark. Jungkook turns, staring Namjoon in the face before walking away from the park._

_He had looked right through him. He wasn’t even there and yet Jungkook knew. The flames nip at his own legs now, noble roots growing from his core, and he tries to scream, run, anything, but the flames are merciless as they swallow him whole. The scenery melts, melts like a dripping ice cream cone on a summer day, melts into Jungkook’s bedroom._

_It’s a relaxing thing to view after the fire dies away, but it knaws at Namjoon’s neck and something is wrong. Seokjin walks through the door with a man, a man as tall as the roof, a man with a face like a wolf, a man with no face at all._

_The creature shoves Seokjin onto the bed and Namjoon’s throat aches because he can’t yell at it to get off but Seokjin just takes the faceless man’s dick as Seokjin is manhandled and the guy bites his neck and Seokjin’s cheek hits the pillow dully where Namjoon is just watching, watching, and he knows that Seokjin can’t see him but_

_Seokjin stares._

_The man finishes. He throws a wad of won onto the bed. Namjoon registers the sound of the door being slammed behind it. Seokjin continues to look as he lays half naked on the bed._

_Namjoon can finally move his tongue, finally speaks, “Why did you do that?”_

_Seokjin blinks. His face shifts. He’s absolutely pissed. “Because you did this to me.”_

_Jungkook enters the room._

_“What..?” Namjoon’s voice is failing him._

_They both speak at the same time, almost like they’re speaking in tongues, “You did this to me.” Jungkook sits beside Seokjin. “You’re a little fuckup. You don’t deserve me. You never deserved me.”_

_Namjoon’s cheeks are wet as they both move closer to him. “Look in the fucking mirror. See what a fucking monster you’ve become.” Namjoon sobs, shaking his head no, no, no, but they both grasp his skull, fingers like frigid icicles, wrenching it sideways so that he stares directly back at himself and they start to claw at his face._

_“Face your fucking demons, coward.” Jungkook spits into his face, fingers tearing into his mouth as Namjoon begins to wail for them to stop. He can see Jungkook glaring at him, teeth bared in a snarl._

_“Wake up.” Namjoon shakes his head and pleads for them to stop trying to rip him apart but their nails tear at his throat, his face, his chest, and it’s crawling up his stomach and-_

“Namjoon!” Seokjin is shaking him and Namjoon’s eyes fly open as a howl tears from his chest. Seokjin stares down at him, eyes wide with shock and concern, and Namjoon shoots into a sitting position, clenching his eyes shut and screaming into his hands and he’s shaking, he’s shaking so hard he might fall apart because Jungkook’s hands are still constricting around his neck and the smoke is rising in his lungs and Namjoon screeches again.

Seokjin’s hands brush his shoulders softly, his sleepy alto voice shushing him calmly but he jolts and scrambles from the bed, breaths coming in wheezes and shooting out short and choppy as he backs himself into a wall. Shocked, Seokjin sits on the bed as Namjoon’s back hits the wall. His eyes are wide with fear, as if Namjoon had turned into a feral animal.

Seokjin moves to stand up from the bed extremely slowly but as he raises himself, Namjoon’s eyes widen further and a raw whimper rips from his throat and please don’t hurt me I’m sorry please I didn’t mean it don’t hurt me please i’m scared.

Seokjin immediately sits back down and backs away from him, hands up. “I won’t hurt you, Namjoon, I love you.” Breaths are coming fast and Seokjin vaguely wonders if Namjoon has asthma but the thought is driven away as Namjoon huddles in on himself and bites his fist, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead between his knees and screaming into his fist as he snivels ferociously. His body convulses and quakes, scratching at his wrist and digging his nails into his forearm until red specks dot the wounded skin.

Seokjin slowly, serenely crosses the room until he’s in front of Namjoon, squatting down to sit on the floor away from him. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you, baby.” He scoots closer to Namjoon, careful, careful, careful.

Namjoon whimpers and drags his fingernails across his forearm, trying to get a grip on something, anything. Pain was good.

“Namjoon, can I touch you?”

He bites down on his fist harder, nodding and shrinking away from Seokjin’s gentle hand.

“It’s okay, it’ll be over soon, you’re safe.” A thumb brushes over Namjoon’s hand and he relaxes a bit. “I’m here to help. I know you’re scared, but I’m here. You’re going to be alright.”

Namjoon grits his teeth. “F-fuck.. Fuck I-I’m.. I can’t..”

“You can’t what?”

“I c-can’t do this, I just..”

“Yes you can.” Seokjin brushes his bangs away from his face. “You’re doing so well, Namjoon, I’m proud of you. So, so proud of you.”

Namjoon can breathe a little easier as the pain in his chest lessens.

“Do you need anything or anyone?”

“Yoongi and Hoseok.” The names fly out of his lips faster than his brain can process but Seokjin nods.

“You need to go onto the bed.”

Namjoon nods and accepts Seokjin’s stable hand, helping him stand and cross the room so he can collapse onto the bed. Seokjin smiles at him, soft, anxious, and his mind flashes and screams _you don’t deserve this, you ugly creep_ and the fear stabs its rigid talons into his back and he slams his head back into his knees, fingers drilling into his calves as he attempts to scrape his legs off. He vaguely hears Seokjin give Yoongi and Hoseok a brisk call and Namjoon feels a shudder vibrate through his body and his stomach just _hurts so much,_ _fuck_ _._

Yoongi is suddenly at the door, looking thoroughly winded but easy as he approaches Namjoon. Visibly relaxing, Namjoon grabs at Yoongi’s arms, pale and thin, contrasting with his long, tan fingers. Yoongi combs his fingers through Namjoon’s sweaty hair, gathering his head into his lap and Seokjin watches as Namjoon’s eyes become cloudy, staring into space as Yoongi whispers encouragements into his ears. Hoseok arrives a minute after Yoongi, Namjoon latching onto Hoseok’s shoulder and Seokjin just watches and takes in the dynamic between the three, never being more grateful for two human beings in his life than right now because they’re both so fucking _calming._

Namjoon slowly allows his body to be spread out, his long legs splaying across Hoseok’s thighs, Hoseok running his fingers down and back up his legs, telling him how good he’s doing, everything is alright. Opposite of Hoseok is Yoongi, silent as Namjoon’s head lays on his lap, brushing his tattooed fingers over his now only slightly damp bangs and dipping down onto his arms.

“Can I see?” Yoongi is talking now, always calm and low.

“Yeah.” Namjoon’s voice is absolutely fucking _wrecked,_ but with the way his breath is leaving him in unsure stutters the three of them don’t comment. Yoongi tenderly lifts Namjoon’s wrist to examine it, grimacing slightly as he observes the torn skin and blood clotting from his self-inflicted wounds.

Namjoon closes his eyes. “I know, it’s worse than last time.”

Yoongi chooses to stay quiet, but presses a small kiss to his cheek. Jealousy flares inside of Seokjin’s stomach and apparently it shows on his face because Yoongi glances up at Seokjin, meeting his eyes for a few seconds before waving him off. “Cool it, I’m not stealing your boyfriend.”

Hoseok leans over and meets Seokjin’s eyes, mouthing a sheepish _sorry._

“You alright?” Yoongi asks. Namjoon nods in response. “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being terrible and 10 being good, how good do you feel?”

“A shaky 8.”

Yoongi smiles and helps Namjoon into a sitting position.

“Thank you.” Namjoon stares at the floor, a deep ruby tinging his ears and his neck.

Hoseok grins and pats Namjoon’s cheeks. “Dude, it wasn’t even a problem, look at how good you did!”

“Yeah, but..”

“I don’t even care that it’s 4:30 in the morning!”

“Okay.. Sorry, you guys can go back to bed. I didn’t mean to be a nuisance.”

“It’s alright, Joon-ah. It’s seriously no problem. Don’t apologize.”

“..No. Really, get out.”

Yoongi snorts. “Yah, Hoseokkie, he wants to kiss Seokjin-hyung in peace!”

Grinning toothily, Hoseok makes kissy faces. “Hyung, be careful with him!”

The duo cackle as they smack Namjoon’s back and head out the door, chittering away about getting coffee at the gas station after they make sure Namjoon is completely stable. Seokjin and Namjoon stare at each other for a few seconds before Namjoon lunges and hugs Seokjin intensely.

“Thank you.” He whispers. “I’m sorry I freaked out after a stupid nightmare and scared the shit out of you.”

Nose buried in his blond locks, Seokjin kisses the top of Namjoon’s head. “No, baby, I’m just happy you’re okay.”

Namjoon tightens his arms around Seokjin’s chest. “Yoongi-hyung.. He’s hard to understand. He means well. He’s just tough on the outside, but really he’s a little marshmallow.”

“I know. Yoongi tries to be a hardass.”

“He’s a real cinnamon roll, I promise.”

Seokjin smiles and shakes his head. “Yeah. I think he’d _really_ appreciate being called a cinnamon roll.”

Namjoon giggles with Seokjin, pulling his head away to press his forehead against Seokjin’s. Seokjin notices that Namjoon isn’t laughing anymore; he opens his eyes, expecting something worse like Namjoon’s anxiety coming back to kick his ass but it’s just Namjoon, eyes soft as he stares at him like the lovey-dovey sap he really is.

He opens his mouth to say something but Namjoon leans forward and captures his lips in a kiss, winding his arms around his shoulders and pulling his lips closer to his own. Seokjin grins into the kiss, hands sliding down to rest on Namjoon’s waist and tugging their hips together.

“I love you,” Seokjin murmurs against his lips, “You’re so beautiful, I love you so, so much.”

Namjoon sighs into his mouth as he’s laid on the bed, Seokjin slotting a leg between Namjoon’s thighs, but he doesn’t expect Namjoon to start rutting against his leg. He begins to whimper and grip at his shirt as his hips grind roughly against his firm thigh and Seokjin can feel Namjoon’s hard-on rubbing on his thigh and _fuck_ _._

Seokjin bites Namjoon’s lip, pulling back and releasing it, then swooping down to lick at his neck. Namjoon’s moans are noticeably stronger and louder without Seokjin’s lips and tongue to mute them; thin fingers slip between his lips and a tongue laps at Seokjin’s digits, wet choking sounds escaping.

“You’re a good boy, Namjoon, I love you,” Seokjin breathes into Namjoon’s ear, “You’re all mine.”

Namjoon chokes on a groan as his shorts become notably more soaked than they were ten minutes ago. Seokjin smiles at Namjoon’s pants as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips to Namjoon’s lips. He sneaks a hand down to his own crotch, palming at himself, but Namjoon’s fingers encircle his wrist and tug his hand away.

“Lemme do it.” Namjoon slurs drowsily, still riding the ebbing and flowing waves of his release.

“What?”

“Lemme do it! I wanna suck you off!” Namjoon raises his voice and Seokjin presses his palm to his mouth.

“Namjoon, be quiet, it’s literally 5 in the morning-”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shimmies down the bed. “Can I do it?”

He looks up with pleading eyes. The puppydog eyes. Fuck.

A sigh. “Yes, you can suck me off. Don’t give me that look.”

Namjoon grins and pulls Seokjin’s jeans off of his legs and wow _,_ he did not expect Seokjin to be the one to go commando and _wow,_ that is a huge dick.

“You don’t have HIV, right?” Namjoon continues to stare at Seokjin’s cock.

“Nah, I’m clean.”

“Okay. I’m.. too lazy to get a condom.”

Seokjin scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

Namjoon grips Seokjin’s shaft and presses his cheek against him, gazing up at Seokjin. “That just means you can cum all over my face.”

Seokjin’s dick twitches in Namjoon’s hand and Namjoon chuckles darkly as he traces the shape of Seokjin’s cock with the tip of his tongue, keeping direct eye contact with Seokjin as he presses his tongue against the head. Seokjin curses as he watches Namjoon’s thick lips take in his dick, feeling his tongue massage him.

“Ah, fuck! Aren’t you a fucking virgin?” Seokjin spits, sliding a hand into Namjoon’s thick locks and stroking his head.

Namjoon pulls up, spit-slicked lips shining in the dim light from Seokjin’s nightstand. “I’ve read up a lot.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to reply but Namjoon sinks down further on his cock, mouth hot and slick, and slurps around him, one hand coming up to wrap around the base of his dick and the other grasping his ass to pull him in deeper. He pulls up, jacking Seokjin off rapidly as he spits onto his cock. The furnace that is Namjoon’s dirty fucking mouth is soon back around Seokjin’s cock, encouraging him to fuck into his mouth slightly and oh, “You love sucking cock. You’re a good little cock sucker. Joonie, do you want me to cum on your face? You want me to cum down your throat?”

Namjoon moans around him and Seokjin tips over the edge, pulling out and decorating Namjoon’s face with strings of cum, hanging from his eyelashes and landing on his cheeks, his open mouth and flattened tongue. Panting, Seokjin leans over, taking Namjoon’s face into his hands and kissing his wet mouth chastely.

Namjoon opens one eye, the other currently remaining closed because of the cum dripped around it, and watches as Seokjin tugs him off of the bed and into his bathroom. He guides him onto the toilet, telling him to stay there, and he wanders off. Drawers open and shut and Seokjin reappears with two pairs of both pajama pants and boxers. Setting the clothes on the counter, he pulls out the face wipes from his cabinet and begins to wipe Namjoon’s face clean

“God, I really made a mess of you, huh?” Seokjin smiles weakly as he cleans around Namjoon’s dirtied eye. Namjoon just smiles back, shy and avoiding eye contact. Laughing to himself, he kisses Namjoon’s now clean cheek and throws the wipe into the trash. He hands Namjoon the clothes.

“You came in your pants and I didn’t want you to walk all the way back to your dorm room with jizz pants.”

Namjoon scoffs and takes the clothes from his hands. “Thanks, hyung, for caring about my bad case of jizz pants.”

Seokjin frowns and hits him over the head lightly. “I’m just trying to care for you and your low sexual stamina!”

They both stare heatedly at each other before laughing. A warm feeling blossoms in Namjoon’s chest. “Really, thanks, hyung.”

Seokjin smiles and makes to leave Namjoon to change by himself. “It’s really nothing.”

The door shuts and Namjoon slides out of his gross pants and into Seokjin’s boxers. He grabs the pajama bottoms and heads out of the bathroom, catching a glimpse of Seokjin’s ass as he slips into his own boxers. Seokjin grunts in surprise as Namjoon throws the PJs over his head, scrambling to get the damn things off of his head.

Namjoon collapses into the bed, Seokjin’s arms snaking around his waist and his legs coming to tangle with Namjoon’s, the silky texture of the pajama pants sliding against Namjoon’s bare skin.

They lay like that for a while, absorbing each other’s heat, listening to one another’s breathing, until Seokjin finally speaks up.

“Wanna go get french fries?”

“Fuck yeah I do.”


	6. discontinued

hi. i'm discontinuing this fic until further notice. "further notice" meaning when/if i get back into the fanbase or kpop as a whole. sorry if you were looking forward to this being an actual update of the story but if we're being honest, i had no further plans for this and i don't have the time or inspiration to do so. thank you for reading and supporting me!!


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